Ghostly Outcomes
by Siriusly Disturbed
Summary: Our story begins six years after Hogwarts, with the capture of Peter Pettigrew. At his trial, Harry Potter learns the very shocking plans of Lord Voldemort, but what if they're not what they seem?
1. An Old Rat and an Old Friend

**Author's Notes:** Ahhh, finally a story where I haven't come up with a ginormous Mary-Sue. It's good to get away from that field. I suppose I have to thank Akalei – and you should too, if anybody actually reads this – because she basically forced me to write this story. At first I was a bit, erm, not happy about it at first, but I've thoroughly changed my mind after coming up with the plot. Except for one thing. This stupid, boring chapter took me about three weeks to write. I am not kidding. And it's only six pages long! I really do hate this chapter though – because it's the first one, naturally, and the first chapter always takes the longest to write, I guess. Well, enough boring talk. Onto the story! Well, actually, the disclaimer, but whatever.

**Disclaimer:** I, obviously, don't own anything you recognize. Anything you don't recognize, however… now, that's a different story! Hopefully you have never heard of Harry Potter before, because that would mean I own everything. But it would be kinda stupid to read Harry Potter fanfiction if you've never read the book, eh? =)

And finally, on to the story!

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**GHOSTLY OUTCOMES**

**[CHAPTER ONE: AN OLD RAT AND AN OLD FRIEND]**

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"Harry? Harry? Come on, _Potter_, get up!"

Quite startled by the sharp pokes he was receiving in his arm, Harry Potter jerked awake from a blissful sleep. He found himself sitting in an uncomfortable chair in his cubicle at Auror headquarters and, by twisting his neck painfully to the side, also found his co-worker Ron Weasley nearly jumping up and down on the spot, holding something in both hands.  Harry blinked for a minute, trying to wake up, and said groggily, "What happened?"

"Pettigrew!"

"What about him?"

"Tonks caught him! It's all over the papers – here, look for yourself!" With that, Ron thrust the _Daily Prophet_ in front of Harry's face, and Harry grabbed it, hardly believing what he saw. Next to the article, there was a picture of a beaming Tonks – her hair was about shoulder-length and it looked to be blond this time – shaking hands with the Ministress of Magic, Astera Griffiths, and in the background was the form of two dementors hauling away a short, balding man with rat-like teeth, a man called Peter Pettigrew. Harry stared at the photograph and chuckled grimly. "Doesn't look so good, does he?" he muttered, referring to the terrified look on Pettigrew's face.

"Well, at least he doesn't look happy about it," said Ron with a sideways grin. Harry smiled, and his eyes drifted over to the article.

**Peter Pettigrew – Alive and Arrested!**

Peter Pettigrew, who was supposedly murdered 22 years ago by the notorious Sirius Black, was apprehended last night by Auror Nymphadora Tonks, _writes Lydia Adams, _Daily Prophet_ reporter._

Although one might question why Pettigrew was arrested – after all, we all thought Pettigrew died a hero's death all those years ago – Aurors have discovered recently that it was not Black who slayed those 12 Muggles, but _Pettigrew_ as he cut off his own finger and blasted away half the street.

          "Pettigrew faked his own death that night," said a childhood friend of both Black and Pettigrew, "because he wanted to escape the wrath of Sirius, and because he was a Death Eater."

Sighing, Harry read the rest of the article, which explained Sirius's innocence and Pettigrew's guilt, with mixed feelings. He was relieved that Pettigrew had been caught, there was no doubt about that… but he was also jealous of Tonks, for he wanted to be the one to catch Pettigrew and give him to the dementors. Along with that, he also felt angry at the _Daily Prophet_; there was hardly anything about Sirius in the article – it didn't even mention that he was dead! It had taken them eleven years – _eleven_! – to figure out that Sirius was innocent, and now it meant nothing, all because of Bellatrix Lestrange. _Don't think about that, _Harry thought quickly, and he forced all of the feelings except the good ones to the back of his mind.

"That's great," Harry said enthusiastically, "That Tonks caught him, I mean."

Ron scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the article sheepishly, and he said quietly, "Yeah, but I kind of wanted it to be us to catch him, since he was my rat and he was basically responsible for your parents' death."

"Among other things," Harry said darkly, and he frowned at the pathetic form of Wormtail in the photograph.

Harry knew that Ron was uncomfortable with the subject of Voldemort's return, even though Voldemort had been around ten years now, so he wasn't very surprised when Ron said, "Well, look on the positive side! At least he can't help You-Know-Who anymore."

"Voldemort, Ron. His name is _Voldemort._ It's not hard very to pronounce, really. It's only got three syllables, which shouldn't be _that_ difficult for you."  Harry grinned at the look on Ron's face as he said this; it was the kind of glare that Harry had only seen on the faces of Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall before. _Must be taking private glaring lessons from Hermione, _Harry thought mischievously, and then he said aloud, "Let's go show Hermione, shall we? I daresay she'll be ecstatic over this little bit of news."

Ron grimaced at the thought of traveling two floors down to visit Hermione, but nodded his head nonetheless. "One question before we go, though," he said to Harry, who was just beginning to get out his chair, "Why didn't _Voldemort" _- Ron shuddered – "pick something less terrifying, like Baldymort or something? Then I would have no complaints over saying his name."  Ron picked up the newspaper reproachfully, and Harry laughed heartily as they left Auror Headquarters, passing many fellow Aurors and Auror trainees talking about Tonks and Pettigrew as they went.

Despite their young age, Harry and Ron were perhaps two of the best Aurors the Ministry had ever recruited. The two friends were accepted into training immediately after they graduated, and finished with the three-year training two and a half years ago. They passed each stage of the training with flying colors, but only because they spent many nights studying curses, counter curses, jinxes, Dark wizards, and potions… Ron thought that they spent more time studying to be an Auror than they ever did at Hogwarts, and Harry thoroughly agreed with him.

However, while Harry and Ron went on to become Aurors, Hermione Granger had taken another path altogether. Her choice career was an author, but Hermione didn't have time for writing with her current occupation. She had, in her own words, "taken S.P.E.W. a bit further" and convinced the Ministress (through a long and boring process) to start a House-elf Division next to the Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Now, because of Hermione, house-elves were treated much better than they had in years past: they were paid (12 Knuts was minimum wage) and they received weekends and alternate Wednesdays off, along with a week-long vacation in July.

Hermione was bent over her desk, scribbling away on a piece of parchment and muttering to herself, when Harry knocked lightly on her door. Without even looking up, she yelled, "Come in!" Her golden brown hair – no longer bushy, but permanently straightened by magic - was pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and various locks were artfully covering her eyes. Her fairly large office was very organized, almost too organized for the Head of a division. There were pictures of various house-elves all over the wall; Harry recognized one to be his old friend Dobby, who saw Harry come in and pointed wildly to his many pairs of socks covering his tiny feet. Harry and Ron exchanged grins, and Harry poked his head inside the door and whispered teasingly, "Are we interrupting anything important, Miss Granger? If we are, we'll just be on our way…"

At the sound of Harry's voice, Hermione's head snapped up. Her countenance was shocked at first, but then she relaxed and smiled at her friends. "Yes, as a matter of fact, you are," she replied bossily, her eyes gleaming, "but I guess it can wait a few moments." She lowered her quill, stood up gracefully, and walked in front of her desk as Harry and Ron came into her office.

"So what brings you two down to Level Four of the Ministry of Magic? I'm sure it's not to inquire on how much money the average house-elf makes a year."

Ron showed Hermione the _Daily Prophet_ somewhat awkwardly – ever since he and Hermione broke up the year before, he had been oddly uneasy around her, while Hermione retained her natural poise – and Harry said with a smile, "Tonks caught Wormtail."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed breathlessly, and she snatched the newspaper out of Ron's hand and disappeared behind it so she could read. "You're kidding!"

"Nah, we're not," Ron said cheerfully, and Harry rolled his eyes and looked back at Dobby's portrait, which waved.

As her chocolate brown eyes moved back and forth across the paper, she murmured, "Well, that's odd… I always thought you and Harry would be the ones to catch him…"

"You know, that's _exactly_ what I said earlier…"

Harry glanced lazily at Ron and Hermione, fully aware that he was no longer included in the discussion, although it had just started. That was what would usually happen when he and Ron would visit Hermione: Harry would begin the conversation, Ron and Hermione would talk for ages, Harry wouldn't get a word in until he decided to leave, and even then they barely noticed him. He supposed they couldn't very well help it – after all, it was completely obvious that they still liked each other even though they broke up, just as it was when they were in school. By now, Harry had completely tuned out of the little chat and was no longer aware of anything they were saying, and he began to get angry.

He was tired of being left out. He had received so much attention during the past twelve years of his life that he was used to being included in almost _everything_. Although he would never admit it out loud, there were times when Harry liked being the center of attention, times like when he won a Quidditch match for Gryffindor in his school days or when he put a particularly dangerous Death Eater in Azkaban. And because he received so much attention, so much adoration from people he had never heard of, Harry subconsciously expected that his friends to do the same.

Of course, as soon as he thought that, standing in Hermione's office, he felt instantly guilty for ever thinking such a thing. That was the sort of thought that he expected someone like Draco Malfoy to think… And while Harry was brooding over the unpleasant subject of Draco Malfoy, the latter just walked past Hermione's office, glancing to his right for just a split second, saw Harry staring at him, and grinned slyly. As soon as Malfoy swaggered past the door, Harry stole a look at Hermione and Ron, but they were still talking. Harry was sure they had forgotten he was there, which suited him fine at the moment. If they had temporarily forgotten he existed, then Harry might be able to sneak out of Hermione's office without them ever even detecting…

Harry coughed. Neither of his friends noticed.

He coughed again. Nothing.

"Well, since you two are so absorbed in your own little world, I might as well go see what Malfoy's up to, eh?" Harry muttered, more to himself than to Ron and Hermione. Seeing as both of them ignored him completely, Harry silently slipped through the oak door and into the long corridor of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures just in time to see Malfoy do the exact same thing across the hall and five doors down from him. But before Harry could even get a good look at the plaque next to the door into which Malfoy disappeared, he heard the distinctive sound of poorly-oiled hinges as a door opened slowly behind him. Voices wafted through the partially opened door, but Harry couldn't tell who it was that was talking.

Harry turned around automatically to see who was coming out of the door behind him. It was slightly ajar, with a hand placed on the frame and the hand's owner blocking everything inside the door. The man was wearing simple black robes that went down to his ankles and he was carrying a brown travel bag in his other hand. His light brown hair had several light gray streaks in it, reminding Harry a bit of the "high-lights" all the Muggle women had these days, but he knew that this man did not have these splashes of gray amongst the brown by choice. In fact, Harry even knew why this man had graying hair, because his travel bag was embossed with a name, which happened to be Remus J. Lupin.

Lupin turned around, fumbling with something in his bag, and jumped at the sight of Harry. "Hello, Harry! Didn't see you standing there." He looked around the hallway and then curiously turned his gaze back to the young man in front of him. "What are you doing down here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Harry said with a grin.

"Oh, I was just filling out some papers at Werewolves Support Services, because of those new laws the Ministress made," Lupin said nonchalantly, and he continued to shuffle things in his bag.

"What new laws?"

Lupin looked up at Harry and smiled. "Don't worry, Harry, they're not _bad_," Lupin said, smiling, "I just had to fill out some forms saying that I wasn't going to attack any students once a month, that's all."

"Students?" Harry said, puzzled.

"I'm teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts again, didn't you know?"

Harry just stared.

"Guess not," Lupin muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching, and he went back to his bag.

Harry said nothing for a moment, astounded, but then he burst out, "Well, that's great that they're letting you teach again, but don't you know its half-way through September?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that, and so is Dumbledore," Lupin answered. "All that means is that the students will be a bit behind this semester in this particular class and they will have to work harder to catch up."

"I don't envy them at all," Harry muttered, smirking.

"Neither do I Harry, but unfortunately, I'm their teacher," said Lupin. "So, what are you doing down here, anyway?"

Harry glimpsed at Hermione's office and saw that she and Ron were still talking, and Harry said a bit bitterly, "Well, I _was_ visiting Hermione with Ron, but I doubt they even –" Harry stopped in the middle of this sentence and glanced at Lupin, who was still smiling. Instead of continuing, Harry coughed and muttered quietly, "I was just visiting Hermione with Ron – you know, to tell her about Wormtail and all."

"Oh yes, wonderful news to be sure," Lupin said with a grim smile. "D'you know that that Adams girl interviewed me for the article? Of course, I told her not to keep my name out of it so nobody would judge me by my old school friends –"

"Wouldn't they have already done that with Sirius?" Harry said softly.

"Nobody interviewed me about him," Lupin replied.

Harry said nothing in return but merely nodded politely.

"He's getting a fair trial, though, Pettigrew," Lupin said, sighing as if he wished it were otherwise. "Doesn't have a chance, of course, so I don't know why the Ministry's even going to bother. I daresay you'll be wanted to attend, Harry."

Again, Harry said nothing, and he frowned darkly. Lupin, sensing his unwillingness to talk about Pettigrew, changed the subject back to his teaching. Harry barely said anything during this part of their conversation, but he learned many things about the Hogwarts Lupin was returning to. He learned that both his least favorite professors, Severus Snape and Sybill Trelawney, were still teaching the same subjects, as was Professor Binns, the only ghostly professor at Hogwarts. Since Professor McGonagall was killed by a Death Eater four years ago, her replacement was a middle-aged woman named Athena Redgrove, whose brother, named Adonis Williams, taught Astronomy. Professors Flitwick and Sprout had retired soon after Harry graduated, but later on Harry couldn't have remembered their replacements' names if his life depended on it.

They talked about the new and old professors for a few minutes, but soon enough the subject turned to the students. Harry didn't know anybody at Hogwarts; the first years who had just entered the school as Harry was about to leave it were seventh years now, and Harry didn't know anything about them except for their names. Lupin, however, knew two out of the entire student body, and he only knew them because they were his sister's children. "Kerenza's a fifth year and Hayden's a seventh year," Lupin explained. "They're not in the same houses, though – she's in Gryffindor and he's in Ravenclaw. According to their older brothers, Kerenza and her friend Paige Mackenzie are known as the female Weasley twins of their time."

Harry chuckled and said," I wonder if Fred and George know that…"

"Oh they do, don't worry," Lupin said, "Rowan and Kieran – their older brothers, by the way – are good friends with the Weasley twins, as they're twins themselves, and they get free gags from Fred and George to give to Kerenza for holidays and such."

"Hang on, "Harry said before Lupin could continue, "Are you talking about Rowan and Kieran Crane?"

Lupin nodded. "Do you know them?"

"Ron and I have given them tips for their Auror training is all," Harry replied, a bit surprised. "You wouldn't think that they would be friends with Fred and George. They're very serious."

"I think they're only like that to annoy their older sister, Demetra –"

"You know, she hates being called that," said a female voice from behind them. Harry turned around and saw that Ron and Hermione had finally stopped talking to each other and were exiting Hermione's office. Ron was slightly pink, and Harry guessed that it was because he knew that he and Hermione had left out Harry yet again. With the arrival of Lupin, Harry discovered that he didn't care so much anymore, so he smiled at Ron knowingly, and Ron smiled back, looking relieved. "She's prefers Demi."

"Afternoon Ron, Hermione," Lupin said cheerfully. He turned to Hermione. "And yes, I am aware of that, but _I_ prefer her _real_ name, and she knows it."

"Who?" Ron asked, either very curious or very confused.

"Lupin's niece, Demi Crane," Hermione told him with her I-know-so-much-more-than-you tone. "She works over there in the Spirit Division." Hermione pointed at the door where Draco Malfoy had disappeared, and Harry now saw that the plaque read, "SPIRIT DIVISION: _For the haunting and the haunted only." _

"She's the head of the Spirit Division," Lupin pointed out a bit defensively.

"Oh, really?" said Hermione, astonished. "I've had lunch with her a few times, and I never knew that –"

"She's not proud of it," Lupin added. "I have no idea why, but she's not."

Ron sniffed. "Well, that's not on," he said disapprovingly."

"Tell her that," Lupin muttered, and he gazed at his watch and jumped. "Merlin's beard, I was supposed to be at Hogwarts ten minutes ago!" He said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and they went back into her office. Harry, however, held him back a minute before he left.

"You _will_ be at Pettigrew's trial, won't you?" Harry asked him nervously.

Lupin stared into Harry's bright green eyes and answered solemnly, "Of course I will. There is nothing I'd like more at this point than to see him in jail, where he belongs. Peter Pettigrew does not deserve to live after all that he has done, but the best we can do is put him in Azkaban."

Harry swallowed and nodded, and Lupin left without another word.

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**Author's Notes Numba Two:** Right, now that you've gotten this far through that terrible chapter, review and tell me that it was terrible. Of course, if you think otherwise, you can say that too, but whatever floats your boat, dearie.


	2. La Petite Souris

**Author's Notes:** Ahem. Well, it's been three days since I posted chapter one, and I wrote this chapter in about the last two hours. Fun, huh? Well, I hope you like this chapter, but it's about two pages shorter than the last one, but where I stopped felt like a good place to stop. And don't worry, it's not a cliffhanger or anything – I'm not _that _mean… yet.

Another thing: a few times in this chapter I've felt as if I'm writing a Harry/Hermione or even a Harry/Draco (VOMITS UNCONTROLLABLY) fic, but just to let you know, I'm not. Those two aren't the ships I hate the most, but they are up there, trust me. Ugh.

**Steph****:**Well, here's the next chapter lol.

**PROFESSOR echo:** Haha. Oh, and if my French is incorrect in this chapter, correct it plzkthxlol. Tee hee

**Akalei: **No it didn't, the summary sucked, stupid. [Oh, everyone read her fic BEHIND CLOSED DOORS, by the way. It's very good.]

**Miss Piratess:** You are a very smart reviewer. wink And I wanna give Remus a hug too… he needs one, the poor guy. =(

**Star Allise:** Thank you for that wonderful compliment, and the same to you.

Normally I don't do that, but since you guys are my only reviewers, I guess I have to haha.

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**GHOSTLY OUTCOMES**

**[CHAPTER TWO: LA PETITE SOURIS]**

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Harry took a deep breath as he Apparated into an abandoned alley designed solely for that purpose behind the Ministry. Of course, most Ministry workers Apparated from home, but some liked to walk to work in the morning and Apparate into the building. They didn't like to use the visitor's entrance; they thought it was a nuisance. It was far too slow for an important Ministry official, as most liked to think of themselves. But when Harry Apparated in the alley around noon, he wasn't planning on walking home in the middle of the day. He was going to have lunch with Hermione in some French restaurant a few blocks away. Normally, Ron would be going with Harry to lunch too, but today was Ron's day off, and he decided to go visit his brother Bill and his wife and children on the other side of town. Harry couldn't blame him. He had met Bill's daughters a few months before and they were perhaps the cutest three- and six-year-old's Harry had ever met.

London's streets were roaring with cars and filled with chattering pedestrians during most of the day, and the lunch hour wasn't any different. Harry walked leisurely on the sidewalk, observing the Muggles with a sort of amused disbelief. The teenagers giggling madly across the street didn't know that there was a ministry conducting its business below them. The old couple ahead of Harry was oblivious to the fact that there might be Death Eaters roaming this very street, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. None of them knew that the most malevolent wizard of the millennium was still at large, and Harry both pitied and envied their ignorance. Harry kept walking, his mind wandering from their unawareness to what would happen if he handed that little blonde toddler with the lollipop a dungbomb, when he came upon the restaurant Hermione had been talking about all week.

As he walked in the door, Harry chuckled at the name of the small café. It was called _La Petite Souris_, which Harry was sure meant "The Small Mouse" in French, although he wasn't sure. A few years after he graduated Harry and Ron had met Fleur Delacour talking with Bill in Gringotts, and they all had stopped and gotten lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, where Fleur tried to teach Ron some French. Needless to say, his accent was horrible and she had given up after only a half an hour, mumbling about crude "eenglish" accents." When they had told Hermione, she had thought the whole ordeal exceptionally funny and there wasn't a week that passed where she teased Ron sarcastically about his natural ability for picking up foreign languages.

Harry saw Hermione sitting in a corner that was tucked away from the rest of the restaurant, absorbed in a book, and Harry plopped into the chair opposite her. She jumped, but smiled when she saw Harry grinning across from her and said, "I've been waiting here almost fifteen minutes. What took you so long?"

"I was staring at the name of this 'cute little café', as you call it," Harry replied without missing a beat, "wondering what it meant."

"It means 'the small mouse,'" Hermione said distractedly, confirming Harry's hunch and checking the page number of her book before closing it.

"Isn't that a bit redundant?" Harry asked, barely concealing another grin. "I mean, most people know that a mouse is small. You don't really need to tell them that." He paused. "Well, except for Ron when he's having a particularly absentminded day. Then he doesn't know a mouse from a manticore."

Hermione smiled and agreed while handing Harry a menu. "Now, most of the menu is in French," she said, "and if you don't know what something is, just ask. I know what a fair few things are, and I should warn you to stay away from the seafood – that's the second section on the left hand page – because I tried some seafood in France the summer before third year, and I utterly _detested_ it. Of course, that may be because I'm allergic to fish, but nevertheless it was _disgusting…"_

"Then I won't get the seafood, then," Harry muttered jauntily, and he caught Hermione's eye and they laughed.

After around five more minutes of discussing the menu, Harry finally settled on something he was slightly familiar with: an omelet. Hermione thought his choice of food was positively hilarious, but she wouldn't tell Harry why. She ordered a pancake-like dish that had an unpronounceable name that went along with an unpronounceable cheese from their waiter, a stuck-up looking man named Jérémie, leaving the two friends to talk until their food arrived. When it came, however, it didn't stop them from discussing differences of the treatment of convicts in Germany and Jordan.

Eventually the conversation rolled around to Hermione's occupation. Harry let her do most of the talking for awhile; he occasionally nodded or said, "Uh huh," but that was about it. She spouted obsessively about her plans for house-elves in the future for fifteen minutes, and it was only when she mentioned that she had full support from the Spirit Division when the memory of Malfoy passing Hermione's office abruptly wiped the smile off of Harry's face.

"The elder house-elves won't like it so much, but that can't be – Harry? What's wrong?"

Harry blinked and frowned, very irked at Malfoy, although he wasn't even there. He sighed and looked up from his half-eaten omelet at Hermione's concerned face. "The other day – that day I talked to Lupin in the hall – while you and Ron were talking, I saw Malfoy pass by your door," Harry said quietly and a disgusted look came over Hermione. "I went outside to see where he was going, and he went in the –"

"Spirit Division, I know," Hermione sighed. "I see him go in there almost every week. He works in the Department of Magical Cooperation, you know."

Harry, who was currently taking a drink of his water, choked and practically spat his water across the table. "The Department of Magical Cooperation?" he sputtered. "You're kidding!"

"No, unfortunately, I'm not. He's the Head, too."

Harry gaped at Hermione, hardly believing what he heard. Finally, he managed to stutter, "What was Griffiths _thinking_ when she hired _Malfoy_ to try to cooperate with the rest of the magical world?" Hermione shook her head. "Humankind will never make it through alive," Harry murmured cynically.

"Well, you have to think of who he is, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "He's a Malfoy. He can get whatever he wants with his gold."

"But his father's a known Death Eater who's in Azkaban!"

"That doesn't make him a Death Eater himself," Hermione said, avoiding Harry's eyes and picking at her pancake. Harry stared at her and she rolled her eyes. "All right, maybe it does, but the Ministry doesn't know that."

Harry leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "So, if he's the head of the Department of Magical Cooperation, what's he doing in the Spirit Division so often?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"I don't know," Hermione answered and she shrugged disinterestedly. "Demi Crane says he goes there all the time to visit Pansy Parkinson, who works in the Ghost Relocation Office. From what Demi says, though, Pansy doesn't really _work_ at all, she looks at magazines and mirrors and sticks Demi with all her work." Hermione heaved a pitying sigh. "I can see why Demi doesn't like her job at times like those, but otherwise I think it would be fascinating, dealing with ghosts and all."

"Yeah," Harry said distractedly, still musing over Malfoy. They sat in silence for a minute – Harry taking a sip of water now and then and Hermione stabbing her unpronounceable food with her fork boredly – when there was a sudden but quiet _pop!_, making both friends jump, and a single scarlet feather and a parchment note appeared in the middle of the table. Harry and Hermione stared at it for a second, and then Hermione looked around fearfully, trying to see if any of the Muggles noticed a feather pop out of mid-air, but they were still eating peacefully.  When Hermione looked back at Harry, he was nodding to her to read the note out loud. She picked it up, took one look at it, and whispered, "It's Dumbledore's handwriting."

"Of course it is," Harry whispered, lips quivering, "Who else do we know that has a phoenix?"

"Oh shut up and let me read," Hermione snapped, no longer whispering, but when she read the note she resumed her quiet voice.

_"'To Miss Granger and Mr. Potter,_

_There will be a meeting tomorrow at __three o'clock pm__._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore."_

Hermione looked up at Harry expectantly, as if asking what this was about, so Harry shrugged. "Maybe Snape's got another one of those tedious reports that tell us absolutely nothing," Harry said, mock hopefully.

"Maybe," Hermione said, but her tone was full of doubt.

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The next day, Harry and Ron were sitting at their cubicles and Ron was recounting his adventures with his nieces while Harry was keeping a fierce eye on the clock, which was moving incredibly slowly. Harry was leaning back in his chair and his feet were on his desk, a bad habit he had taken up recently when he was bored in the office. Ron had dragged his chair over to Harry's cubicle, and was sitting on the edge of his, telling his story wildly with many, many hand gestures.

"So – so, then Avalon comes out carrying Ally, screaming her head off – wait, you do know Avalon, don't you? Bill's wife?"

"Yes, Ron, I know Avalon."

"Right, but anyway – she comes out screaming at me and Evie, and I mean she was _screeching_, telling us off for how we'd given poor little Ally a cat's ears and tail, and I couldn't get a word in, but then Evie said, 'But Mummy, Ally's always said she's wanted to be a cat!'" With that final word, Ron started cracking up wildly and almost fell off his chair from laughing so hard. Harry, on the other hand, found this very funny but he was concentrating too hard on the clock. It was nearly three o'clock.

"Oh, and if you think that's funny, wait till you hear what Fred did to Charlie's wife Gisele on Christmas Eve – hang on, you do know Gisele, right?"

"Ron, I was _there_ on Christmas Eve and I remember vividly what Fred did to Gisele. Ginny couldn't stop giggling for hours, remember?"

"Oh yeah… Did I tell you about what George did to Ginny, then?"

At that moment the clock struck three. Harry put his feet on the floor and stood up, saying. "No, you haven't told me that_ exact_ story yet, but I'm sure it can wait another time."

"What for? It's only three – I mean, we've got three more long, boring hours before we can go home," Ron objected, and Harry shook his head. "We haven't got three hours before we can go home?" he asked, perplexed. "But we get off at six, and it's only three…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, Ron. We need to leave now," Harry said, and he began to stride swiftly away from his cubicle, and Ron followed him.

"Where?" Ron asked, catching up with Harry quickly.

"Grimmauld Place," Harry whispered as they passed the Crane brothers, who waved.

"There's a meeting?" asked a very uninformed Ron.

"Didn't you get the notice?"

"Well, something _did_ pop into Avalon's soup in the middle of lunch, but she threw it out…"

Harry shook his head and they both made their way to the elevators. After a short and uneventful ride they exited into the Atrium, which was as hectic and boisterous as ever. There were numerous _CRACK_s as witches and wizards Apparated and Disapparated to places unknown, the noises making an irregular rhythm that was quite irritating. Harry and Ron disappeared into the crowd, glanced at each other, and Apparated in the trees in front of Grimmauld Place.

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Kudos for those who spot the PotC quote. Hehe.


	3. The Meeting

**Author's Notes:** Finally! Chapter Three! This chapter almost took me as long as the first chapter! I think I'm on an exclamation mark high! Woot!

…Erm. Just ignore me. Yes. I believe that's best for your health.

By the way, I have no idea what Ruben loaf is. I just asked my good friend Akalei about a food she didn't like and that's what she said, even though she doesn't know what it is either. She may be kinda blonde sometimes, but go check out her fic Behind Closed Doors anyway. It's very, very good. Hee.

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**GHOSTLY OUTCOMES**

**[CHAPTER THREE: THE MEETING]**

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Ron was automatically reaching for the bell next to the door of number 12, Grimmauld Place when Harry grabbed his hand to stop him. "Bad idea, mate," he said wisely. Ron grinned sheepishly and knocked on the old door instead. Immediately it was answered by none other than Ron's mother, looking both cheerier and older than ever. However, she positively beamed at the sight of her youngest son and his best friend, and ushered them in quickly. "Hurry in, boys," she whispered so as not to wake Sirius's horrible mother, still hanging behind the curtains. Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a hug, much to his embarrassment. "The meeting's about to start, we're just waiting for Professor Dumbledore."

They tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen, where the Order meetings were always held. Mr. Weasley was usually the one to conjure the long mahogany table from thin air, while it was Fred and George's job to make room for it. When Harry, Ron, and Mrs.  Weasley entered the kitchen, Fred was nowhere to be seen and George was conducting a few dancing pots to the other side of the room, and suddenly there was a squeaky chorus of, "UNCLE RON!" as four children no bigger than Harry's knee attacked Ron, knocking him to the floor.

Mrs. Weasley sighed with a smile. "Charlie's children," she said, explaining to Harry. "He and Gisele are in Russia visiting her parents but couldn't bring the children with them, so she left the dears with us. Fred volunteered to watch them during the meeting, but I expect he's upstairs with Bill's girls and didn't realize that the majority of the children ran off." Shaking her head, Mrs. Weasley gathered her grandchildren off of Ron, who was laughing uncontrollably at the smallest boy who was sitting on his chest, and steered them out the door. While they were leaving, Harry noticed that all but one of them had red hair; the tallest girl had long, black curls that fell loosely to her shoulders. Harry asked Ron about her, and he said, "Oh, that's Molly – Charlie named her after Mum, but she got Gisele's hair. First Weasley in eight generations to not have red hair, you know."

A few minutes later, Hermione came in with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, chattering good-naturedly with each other. Hermione spotted Harry and Ron talking with Kingsley Shacklebolt about his vacation (he had just returned from a three-month excursion to America and advised Harry and Ron not to go there unless they wanted to be run over by smelly muggles), and she joined them for a few minutes. Mr. Weasley came in not long after that, directed everyone to stand against the wall, and conjured the table like he always did.

After they had all sat down, Harry noticed that neither Lupin nor Snape were there. He commented this to Ron, who shrugged and said, "Maybe they're coming with Dumbledore."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's three o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon. They're probably teaching their classes."

"Oh," said both Harry and Ron, and Hermione laughed.

As if in response to Harry's question, two sets of footsteps suddenly became audible over the noise of the room before their owners appeared in the doorway. The commotion subsided at the sight of the two men - out of respect for one and repulsion for the other - as Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape crossed the room and took their seats at the awaiting table. Harry ignored Snape as he sat down a few seats ahead of him and studied Dumbledore's solemn expression as he sat down, the latter looking more exhausted than ever and the former just the same as he always looked – greasy and extremely sour. Everybody was staring at Dumbledore, waiting for him to start the meeting officially, but he just smiled and looked directly at Tonks, whose head you could easily identify out of the small crowd because it was green. "I was beginning to fear Peter Pettigrew would never be caught," Dumbledore said softly yet proudly, "but you seemed to have proven me wrong. Well done, Nymphadora." Tonks beamed and didn't say a word about calling her Nymphadora, which was most definitely a first. Everyone clapped for Tonks and George whooped loudly, but after a moment Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them.

"However, when a criminal such as Peter Pettigrew is caught, it causes the Ministry a great deal of agitation, for no one wishes to deal with these delinquents." Dumbledore stared pointedly at Mad-eye Moody, who stared forebodingly back, but Harry saw his thumb twitch and he grinned. "Because of this, Alastor asked me to question Mr. Pettigrew before his trial. I spent my day today with Mr. Pettigrew, and although it was very informing, it was also quite tedious and I very much wish to return to Hogwarts, so this meeting will be a very short one."

Professor Dumbledore paused only a second before continuing. "Most of what was said between Pettigrew and I today will remain confidential until he testifies in court on October the thirteenth, but I shall enlighten you of a few things that won't end with my arrest." A few quiet chuckles were heard and many members smiled – with the exception of Snape, of course.

Harry expected Dumbledore to reveal something very important by the way he was talking, and he was severely disappointed when he began to tell how Pettigrew betrayed Lily and James Potter twenty-two years ago. He supposed Dumbledore was explaining this for everybody else in the Order – the _Daily Prophet_ didn't really mention Peter's betrayal to Harry's parents and neither Dumbledore nor Harry had every bothered to tell anybody else. In fact, the only other people in the Order who knew of Peter's disloyalty were Ron, Hermione, and Lupin. And even though Hermione already knew the story very well, her eyes were focused on Dumbledore and were rapt with attention. Ron, however, sighed with boredom and gave Harry a sideways look of annoyance.

Harry tilted his head back against his chair, stared at the ceiling as Dumbledore spoke, and sighed. He caught a sentence or two here and there, but mostly he heard the gasps, occasional whispers, and overall quiet from the rest of the group. He gritted his teeth, fully aware of the eyes that were gazing back and forth at him, and silently wished to himself that he was someone else, if for just a moment.

Finally, Dumbledore finished talking – Harry could tell by the incensed whispers all around him. He shifted his gaze from the ceiling to Ron, who was looking at him pityingly, but only because Ron knew how much Harry hated so much attention. Harry smiled weakly at him, and then Snape's unpleasant voice filled the small kitchen.

It took a full five minutes for Snape to explain yet again how much peril he was in and how dangerous his duties for the Order were. Hermione rolled her eyes, which was most unlike her as she usually showed little or no emotion when Snape was talking, and Harry and Ron, among others, couldn't help but do the same. Finally the unlikable professor cleared his throat and said, "Recently I have discovered that the Dark Lord is no longer interested in recruiting mere witches and wizards for his campaign, but instead is focusing his sights on the world's population of vampires and werewolves."

Mrs. Weasley gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, Tonks and Ron both groaned, and Hermione breathed a very quiet, "Oh, _no."_ However, Sean O'Leary, a Scottish Auror who was known for his blasé attitude toward everything, mostly Death Eaters, simply rolled his eyes in annoyance and said quite clearly, "Well, those Chinese vampires won't do him any good, will they? They stick out a bit more than the European kind. Besides, nobody's going to find a pig with green hair even remotely frightening."

"You'd be surprised, O'Leary," Moody growled. "I've heard of Chinese Aurors who've gone insane at the sight of those bastards."

"Are we Chinese, Moody?" Sean replied without missing a beat while picking at his fingernails. Moody opened his mouth to answer, but Sean answered his own question before Moody could get a word out. "No, we are not. So why should a pig with discolored hair scare a Scotsman, an Englishman, even a Welshman? I see no threat there."

"It's not a question on whether the buggers _scare_ anybody," Emily Snelling, an Unspeakable, said bitterly. "They can still bite you if you happen to come across one." Her cold, blue eyes stared directly into Sean's uncaring and very foolish hazel ones. "Or did you forget that that's what vampires do? Bite people and suck their blood?" Sean glared at her but did not respond. Harry and everybody else in the room knew that Emily Snelling and Sean O'Leary were not fond of each other.

Dumbledore sighed. "Emily has a point, Sean.  Vampires do not exist just to terrify people. Something will have to be done about them, I suppose."

Bill took the opportunity to speak up for his absent younger brother. "Charlie's in Russia right now with Gisele, he could probably stop in Romania and speak to the Minister before he comes back. It's a known fact that most of the vampire population live there."

As Dumbledore agreed and told Bill he would send Charlie an owl later, Harry thought about this newly revealed plan of Voldemort's disturbing. For some odd reason, Harry felt that vampires and werewolves were the least of their worries, but the so-called "monsters" were not treated very well at all by the Ministry and it would be very easy to get them to switch sides, with little or no blackmail whatsoever. The werewolves would be harder to sway, however, since the Ministress had introduced some very helpful laws that made it easier for werewolves to get around these days. Some speculated that Astera Griffiths had only done this out of sympathy for her younger brother, who had been bitten by a werewolf while on holiday in Austria, but for whatever the reason, werewolves now considered the Ministress to be a fairly righteous leader of the magical community. The vampires were a different story. Nobody treated them well at all.

The chattering around the table and Harry's thoughts generally stopped when Dumbledore said, "Is there anything else, Severus?"

All eyes shifted reluctantly back to Snape. The Potion's Master's face remained just as unfeeling, serious, and smug as it normally did, yet Harry could see hesitation in Snape's black eyes. He said sketchily, "There is nothing that everyone else should be troubled with," and his eyes rested momentarily on Harry before looking back a Dumbledore. Hermione, as observant as ever, noticed this and looked at Harry confusedly and all Harry could do was return her puzzled stare.

Professor Dumbledore also glanced at Harry before saying, "Very well. I guess I shall have to conclude this meeting with a final sentence: I do hope they are not serving Ruben loaf or something equally unappetizing at Hogwarts for supper, for I am very, very hungry." Dumbledore smiled and everybody had a good laugh as they all stood up to socialize with the other members of the Order.

Harry was immediately dragged off by Ron and Hermione to where Ginny was standing with a fellow Healer named Clarence Gaines. Clarence, a very shy man with brown hair, noticed Ginny's older brother and his friends headed his way, quickly said good-bye and headed to the other side of the room where Mystica Hackett was standing. Ginny glared curtly at Ron. "Look, you've gone and scared off poor Clarence, you great prick," she said, her lips twitching, as she playfully punched her brother.

Ron glanced at Ginny's co-worker standing near the wall opposite them. "Looks like he getting along quite nicely with that blonde woman," he said approvingly and both Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes.

Harry sniggered but didn't say anything. He watched Mrs. Weasley leave the room hurriedly, apparently to go fetch her son and grandchildren so she could show them off, a thing she did as often as she could. Not even a minute later, six kids, all but one with fiery red hair, charged into the kitchen laughing and shouting like mad. Soon afterwards Mrs. Weasley and Fred joined them, the latter looking very much exhausted and not at all himself. As Fred ambled past Harry and the others, they distinctly heard him mutter, "That's the _last _time I volunteer to baby-sit… what a _nightmare…"_ Ginny snorted as he passed, but Fred was too tired to even come up with a snappy retort.

For awhile, Harry chatted animatedly with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, but when he stole a quick glance over Ron's shoulder (which happened to be a good four inches higher than eye level), he saw Dumbledore and Snape whispering in a corner, Dumbledore looking grim and Snape looking aggravated. He tuned out of the conversation before him – it was amazing how easy and how often he could do that these days – and watched the professors curiously. They didn't seem aware of their jolly surroundings; after each word Snape said, Dumbledore's already ancient face looked as if it were aging a year a minute. At first Harry thought that Snape might be telling the headmaster some horrifying detail about the vampires and werewolves that he had not disclosed to the rest of the Order, but then he thought, _Why__ would he do that? Any detail, no matter how shocking, would help the Order, not hinder it. _No, Snape was informing Dumbledore of something entirely different.

Unfortunately, before Harry could even begin to wonder what Snape was talking about, his pondering was interrupted by a concerned, "Harry?"

"Er, yes, sorry?" Harry quickly said, tearing his gaze away from the corner and looking at Ron instead.

Ron's eyebrows furrowed in a perplexed fashion. "Your eyes were sort of distant and you were looking a bit thrown there for a minute," he said suspiciously. "Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, I was just wondering –" Harry's eyes darted back to the corner and he nearly jumped when he saw Dumbledore looking back at him and shaking his head in a way that was hardly noticeable. Harry didn't finish his sentence but instead closed his mouth and stared at Dumbledore.

"Wondering what?" asked Hermione inquisitively.

Harry blinked and smiled at his friends. "Wondering when we're having dinner," he finished quite lamely. "I'm starved and it's not even five yet."

"Glad I'm not the only one," Ron said loudly, avoiding Hermione's gaze and yet maintaining to give her a stubborn glare.

"Yes, yes, you make a very good point Ron, we're all half starved and you most of all need nourishment," Hermione said exasperatedly.

Ron nodded. "Damn straight." Hermione scoffed and Ginny shook her head.

"What do you say we eat out tonight, eh?" Harry asked, and he added generously, "My treat."

Ginny grimaced. "Ugh, I'd love to but I'm covering the night shift at St. Mungo's for Karen Daruwala, her sister just had a baby in Spain and Karen's supposed to be the godmother." Ginny checked her watch. "Speaking of the night shift, I'd better get going." She waved goodbye to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before seeking out her parents to tell them she was leaving.

As Ginny left, Harry saw Dumbledore staring pointedly at him with a look that clearly said, "I need to speak to you _now_." With more subtlety, of course. It was Dumbledore, after all. So Harry said distractedly, "Look, you two figure out a place to eat, all right? I need to ask Dumbledore something… But not that French place, Hermione," he added as an afterthought. "I don't think that waiter liked me much." Hermione smiled, and Harry walked over to where Dumbledore was standing just in time to see Snape leave.

"Well, headmaster, I really must be going," Snape said as soon as he saw Harry. "Miss Crane and Miss Mackenzie both have detention _again_ tonight and sadly, I must supervise them as if they were toddlers." And with one final glare shot in Harry's direction (Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response), Snape left number 12, Grimmauld Place.

For a quick moment, neither Harry nor Dumbledore said anything, but when Harry opened his mouth to ask what was going on, Dumbledore cut him off before he had even drawn a full breath. "What am I about to tell you," the old headmaster began quietly, "must remain secret until it becomes a threat. You must not tell anybody under any circumstances, not even Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley. Do you understand?"

Harry's eyes narrowed at the straightforward introduction, but he nodded slowly, expecting the worst. Sensing this, Dumbledore said with a exceptionally small smile, "It's nothing terrible at the moment, I assure you."

"Then why are you keeping it a secret?" Harry asked wryly, fully aware of whom he was being sardonic to.

"So as not to concern those who needn't be worried yet," Dumbledore responded wisely.

"Ah," Harry said. "I see." But surreptitiously he thought of how things had turned out the last time Dumbledore had kept a secret from Harry because he didn't want to see Harry hurt, when keeping that secret for all those years hurt Harry more than anything. Harry made a note to himself to inform Ron and Hermione of whatever Dumbledore was going to tell him. "What's the problem?"

Dumbledore didn't answer at first and instead took off his half-moon glasses and absentmindedly cleaned them with the hem of his robes, looking tight-lipped and worried, an expression that had always been reserved by Minerva McGonagall before she died. Finally, Dumbledore said seriously, "When Snape first heard rumors about Voldemort's plans for the vampires and werewolves, a few other bits of information came through as well. That was a few weeks ago, and since they were just names and phrases, Professor Snape dubbed them trivial. However, in the past few weeks, those same names and phrases have come up more often than not, so Severus became suspicious. He looked into them and thus found _more_ names that made the other phrases make more sense." Dumbledore paused, looking hesitant, and he put his glasses back on, seemingly waiting for Harry to ask the obvious question, so Harry asked it.

"What were they?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Hogwarts, Lestrange, Potter, lure, friends, trap, and kill."

Harry's insides froze. He was hardly breathing now, and in the back of his mind he wondered how pale he had just become. In the front of his mind, he was reeling. He should've suspected this, he really should have. Voldemort knew he had a "saving people thing", as Hermione so eloquently put it, and that he would do anything for his friends. But hadn't the Dark Lord already used that particular plan with Sirius in fifth year? He had lured Harry into the Department of Mysteries with a false vision of Sirius being tortured just so he could get a Prophecy, so why was he using this weak maneuver to kill Harry and take over the wizarding world _again_? And plus, the whole string of words didn't entirely make sense. Out of the seven words, only six fit together: Lestrange would use Harry's friends as bait to lure Harry into a trap and then proceed to kill them all, that made sense. But where did Hogwarts fit in? Was that where Lestrange – _Bellatrix_ Lestrange, perhaps – would hold Ron and Hermione and kill them? _But there's no way for Bellatrix_ _to get _in_to Hogwarts, let alone hold hostages there_, Harry's reasonable mind told him. It didn't make any sense, and from what Harry saw, Dumbledore knew that too.

Dumbledore sighed again – he did that quite often nowadays – and said quietly, "I see that Ron and Hermione are waiting impatiently for you, so I mustn't keep you any longer." Harry instinctively looked over his shoulder at his two friends, and they were acting eager and hassled, glancing every once in awhile in Harry and Dumbledore's direction, looking peeved.

Harry shook his head with a small smile, turned around to leave and had hardly taken a step when Dumbledore said, "Oh, I forgot something." Harry whirled around, thinking that whatever Dumbledore forgot what piece the whole puzzle together.

"Yes?" he asked worriedly.

"Severus also said that ghosts were mentioned, but only once," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

Harry nodded disappointedly. What could Voldemort do with ghosts? Nothing that was what. He hesitated, debating quickly in his mind whether or not he wanted to know, before asking, "Er, Professor? What are we going to do about this, erm, situation?"

Dumbledore looked straight into Harry's eyes and said gravely, "I do not know, Harry. Until this _situation_, as you call it, worsens there is nothing we _can_ do except keep a sharp eye out for anything suspicious."

Harry nodded again and left with Ron and Hermione without another word on the subject. And after all of what Dumbledore said, Harry finally understood why he had kept a secret from him for five years. For the time being, Ron and Hermione were better off not knowing anything. For now.

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Later that night, Harry stumbled into the flat he shared with Ron, feeling, for lack of better words, dead tired. He barely heard Ron talking about Hermione's ridiculous obsession with house-elves and he didn't respond when Ron punched him gently in the arm, teasing about how demented he looked. Instead, he just muttered a weak "g'night" and staggered to his room, not even bothering to change into his pajamas before crashing onto his bed. He fell asleep instantly.

At first, his dream wasn't strange; it started out fairly normal for a dream by Harry's standards.  Well, as normal as a dream that involved a giant red jellybean that was trying to kill you could be, but for some odd reason this wasn't the first time Harry had dreamt this particular nighttime reverie. But right when they enormous jellybean was about to pounce, the whole dream shifted. Dream-Harry still had his face covered for protection from the murderous candy, but when he didn't get smashed, he peeked his eyes open and saw that he was in a whole different setting, a setting that was, unfortunately, all too familiar. He was in the room where Sirius had died.

It looked the same as it did in fifth year – ancient and eerie – and why wouldn't it? He was having a dream, after all. However, there was something different about the room that Harry identified right away: there were three people standing in front of the veil, still fluttering as though there was a wind in the chamber when there really wasn't.

All three of the people's backs were facing Harry, so he couldn't identify them by their faces. Two of them were wearing indistinguishable black robes with the hoods up and were on either side of the third person, who was a girl; Harry could tell by the hair pooling around her shoulders. However, he couldn't tell anymore than that.

Then, as though she was forced, the girl in the middle stepped up onto the dais. She held up her wand, pointed it directly into the veil, and began muttering something. Harry strained his ears to try to make out what she was saying, and he tried to step onto the next tier to get closer, but slipped and made a very loud racket. One of the robed figures apparently didn't even notice the noise, but the other one whirled around, the hood of her robes falling off her head, for the second figure was a woman.

When Bellatrix Lestrange saw the dream Harry, she grinned maniacally.

The next moment Harry sat up in his bed, completely disoriented. He looked around wildly, as though he expected Bellatrix Lestrange to walk out of his closet or pop out of the curtains any moment. When he realized that it was just a dream – and a weird one at that – he lied back down and instantly fell back into a dreamless, albeit restless, sleep.

The next morning Harry didn't remember the dream at all.

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Dun dun duuuuun!

Ooh, ooh! Look at all the plot points! There's one there, and there, andthereandthereandtheeeere… What? You wanna know which ones give away the entire plot? Well, I'm afraid I can't do that, mate. 'Twould give away the plot, that would. Shame, isn't it? Sigh.

On a more sirius note, what was revealed in this chapter isn't the whole plot. I promise. [tries to grin reassuringly but fails miserably] Eh. Stupid reassuring grin. Never works.

Anyway, don't forget to reveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiw! Because, that way, you get the next chapter. Woot.

Yeah, just ignore me again. But do review. That part I mean.


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